


Emotional Stimulus

by dirkygoodness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Freaks Out, Dean helps him through it, Emotional Overload, Human Castiel, M/M, Not meant to be though, Panic Attacks, can be taken as friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkygoodness/pseuds/dirkygoodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was drowning in the sensation, dying, he must have been.</p>
<p>"Cas, trust me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional Stimulus

Castiel's lungs burned as if someone had taken a cheese grater to them. All air he took in seemed to slip right back out before he could make use of any of it.

It was strange and foreign, his newly human body instantly regretting the feeling of less air. He could feel his body shivering, the muscles contracting of their own volition and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Castiel wasn't actually cold but the shivers that plagued him were all too real. He thought absently that, maybe, this was what if felt like to drown. But that thought vanished quickly, just as any other had, as another violent shiver wracked his body.

Castiel wasn't sure what was happening, terrified at his lack of memory. He was sure - so sure that just a moment ago he'd been in the kitchen of the Bunker, laughing along with Dean and Sam but...

Now he was drowning in the burn of his lungs and the horrifying feeling of not being in control of his body. Castiel could tell he was on the ground, cold tiles beneath his open palm, but it felt fuzzy.

Not quite there and he had to concentrate really hard to even feel it remotely normally. But it didn't really matter where he was because Castiel was sure he was dying.

"Cas..." A deep voice called, sounding far off and inhuman. Castiel ignored it.

It was irrelevant to him now - he needed to focus. On what? What was he doing? He couldn't breathe. He just wanted to breathe. His chest hurt, pulled tight like bow strings ready to snap.

"Cas!" Castiel snapped his eyes open with a painful gasp, his conscious suddenly smacking itself into his body after a long trip.

Dean sat in front of him, his hand on Castiel's shoulder like a tether to the world around him. Icy shards of fear and panic laced through Cas' stomach and he wheezed, clutching Dean's arm for purchase.

He didn't know what was happening, his emotions so strong and quickly changing that he couldn't figure out one from the other. His chest hurt.

"Hey, Cas, buddy. You need to look at me okay? Can you hear me, Cas?" Dean asked him and Castiel tried to respond. Tried but all his tattered lungs would allow was a strained breath, stretched too long. Dean's grip on his arm tightened.

"You need to focus on breathing - slowly, in and out."

"I can't-" Castiel managed, shaking his head furiously. His lungs were ripped and shredded, they were useless. If he'd been an angel he could fix them but - another wretched noise rose from his throat as more emotions suddenly bombarded him viciously.

He was drowning in the sensation, dying, he must have been.

"Cas, _trust me_." Dean said. His voice was so sure and sturdy, his arm holding him in place. Castiel closed his eyes, but did as he was told, no matter how stupid it seemed.

He breathed in and out, slowly, despite how much it hurt. Emotions were making him feel raw and exposed, his body still jumping like a live wire had been thrust into his hand.

But as he breathed, his lungs adjusting to the oxygen around him, the emotions seemed to ebb away.

"That's it." Dean told him, pulling a weak smile to his face and Castiel felt himself breathe in a little bit of air, unhindered now by his broken lungs.

He gasped, the sensation addicting, clear like water and twice as cool. He needed more, like an addict to their drugs, alcoholic to it's drinks. It felt like an eternity had passed, taken up by nothing but breathing and Dean's presence beside him.

Slowly, like waking from a dream, Castiel felt himself relaxing and able to breathe somewhat normally. Dean watched him for a moment, nodding when Castiel's eyes locked with his own.

"What just happened?" Castiel asked quietly, suddenly exhausted. His body had stopped shivering, but when that'd happened Castiel wasn't sure. But he was glad for it. Dean gave him a pitying look.

"Panic attack I'm assuming - or something like it." Dean spoke equally as quiet. Neither of them spoke then, Castiel could feel tears trailing down his face and he didn't have the energy to wipe them away.

Everything in his head was rumbling with confusion and uncertainty, emotions only partially toned down. Everything felt a little surreal. Like he was looking at himself through a foggy window, watching as a bystander as all these things happened to him.

"Fuck emotions." Dean suddenly spat, mirth and something ruthless in his tone, masking underlying desperation that had Castiel looking up at him.

He lifted an eyebrow, though felt no need to deny what Dean had said. In that moment he felt particularly inclined to agree with Dean. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but Castiel's old mind told him it was a ' _massive intake of stimulation and emotions, overloading your angelic processing and causing difficulties_ '.

He let his eyes slip closed, head dropping down against the cabinets behind him loudly.

"Fuck emotions." Castiel agreed.


End file.
